


Come Fly With Me

by TeaGirrl



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Aircraft, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bathroom Sex, F/M, Smut, pilot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-07
Updated: 2012-10-07
Packaged: 2017-11-15 20:07:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaGirrl/pseuds/TeaGirrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Gold and flight attendant Belle French meet in the airplane lavatory for smexy-times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Fly With Me

**Author's Note:**

> My attempt at writing crude smut without heavy traces of angst.

The engine of the mighty metal bird revved beneath his feet as he prepared for take-off.

He had positioned the aircraft on the runway, and his co-pilot Jefferson had confirmed that everything was in order. Now he just sat for a few moments, eyeing the clouds that would be beneath him in a few minutes, his hands ghosting over the controls in front of him.

He did this before every flight; letting the sense of control and power he had seep into his skin. This was what he loved about flying – the moment before the plane accelerated, the moment when his heart beat wildly in his chest and his fingers tingled with the anticipation of being airborne.

He informed the crew to prepare for take-off and carefully placed his hand on the throttle lever, before slowly pushing it away from him, making the aircraft move faster and faster down the runway.

His stomach dropped as the plane launched itself off the ground, as if it too longed for altitude and freedom.

The plane’s wheels disappeared within the aircraft, and he smiled as he climbed higher and higher, aiming to pierce the barrier that was the troposphere.

Finally they were above the clouds, the evening sun now fully visible, colouring the cotton clouds in shades of orange and pink.

He heard his co-pilot sigh in relief through the headphones they both wore to communicate. He rolled his eyes. He’d flown with Jefferson countless times, yet he always let his nerves overwhelm him. It was one of the reasons why Jefferson would never become Captain.

“You didn’t soil your pants, did you?” he teased, smirking at his slighter paler than usual co-pilot.

Jefferson just glared at him, making him chuckle.

He switched off the seatbelt sign in the cabin and turned on Auto Pilot, leaning back in his seat as he loosened his tie, his fingers still holding the controls.

Some time had passed before the door to the cockpit opened and one of the flight attendants entered carrying trays of food for both of them.

He knew who it was even before he turned to look at her, the familiar scent of her perfume soon filling the air around him. He looked over his shoulder to see her rosy lips stretched into a dazzling smile; her blue eyes alight with excitement at the sight of him.

He had specifically requested her to be on this flight. It was a long journey, and he knew that he would need a distraction.

She had discarded her jacket and had rolled the sleeves of her white shirt up to her elbows, as well as unbuttoned the three top buttons. He was sure she had done that on purpose.

The navy pencil skirt she was required to wear clung to her hips, and he had lost count of the times he had peeled it off her, or how many pairs of pantyhose he had torn in a frenzy, anxious to ravish her mercilessly.

Her chestnut hair was pulled into a tight bun on top of her head, a few tendrils framing her face. He knew how soft her locks were, from tugging them harshly when he wanted her neck exposed.

She handed Jefferson his tray, making sure to give him a generous view of her behind as she did. She then turned, her eyes gleaming mischievously as she handed him his food.

“Thank you, Miss French,” he said, unable to suppress his smirk. He knew that look in her eyes. He had seen it many times before. It was a look of lust and desire; a look she gave him before he had her practically _begging_ for him.

She returned his smirk and leaned down, giving him a generous view of her cleavage. She had no shame, and he loved it.

She gently pulled away one of the headphone speakers covering his ear and nibbled on his earlobe playfully before saying just loud enough for him to hear over the hum of the engines, “Bathroom, 10 minutes.”

He grinned as she replaced the headphones and smiled wickedly at him, teasing her lower lip with her teeth before leaving the cockpit.

This was their routine.

She would instruct him when to meet her, and he would happily comply. He especially loved the longer flights that brought them halfway across the world, forcing the cabin crew to stay in a hotel. Those were the times _he_ would seek _her_ out, bringing wine and plenty of condoms. And she would invite him in, quickly undress and send him flying in a sky where no plane could take him, using nothing but her tongue and clever fingers.

Ten minutes.

600 seconds.

He could wait that long. All he had to do was lose himself in the sight of endless sky ahead of him.

But the thought of her dripping core being ready for him when he arrived made him fidget in his seat, his cock twitching, aching for her warmth.

Beside him Jefferson ate his sandwich while occasionally checking the instruments, making sure everything was in order. That boy could never relax.

It had only been seven minutes when he couldn’t wait any longer. He undid his seatbelt and informed Jefferson - whose mouth was full with bread and ham - that he was going on a bathroom break, leaving him in charge.

“Don’t crash the plane while I’m gone,” he instructed, enjoying the look of fear in Jefferson’s eyes as he left the cockpit.

He stood in front of the lavatory at the front of the plane and discreetly rapped his knuckles against the door.

One slow knock, two fast knocks, and one slow knock.

The lock changed from ‘occupied’ to ‘vacant’ and he quickly made his way inside, ignoring the looks some of the passengers were giving him. He locked the door and turned to see Belle sitting on the sink counter, one of her legs propped up on the toilet, her hand having disappeared underneath the waist of her skirt as she played with herself.

She was already breathing heavily and her gaze had darkened. She was breath taking.

“Started without me, have you, dearie?” he asked, removing his tie completely and unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt.

“I grew tired of waiting,” she said, her hand still moving underneath the navy fabric.

He chuckled. “Always impatient,” he chided, closing the space between them, letting their lips crash together.

She grabbed the collar of his crisp shirt, fisting the fabric in her hands, whilst he made quick work of the buttons of her shirt, pulling the fabric over her shoulders. She dropped her hands to her sides, letting him remove her shirt completely.

He trailed his mouth over her jaw and down her neck, placing hungry kisses across her fair skin.

Her breath hitched as his teeth trailed over her collarbone, and she quickly unclasped her bra, exposing her breasts to the harsh fluorescent light.

He wasted no time as he took one her nipples in his mouth, teasing her senseless, making her mewl. She took his uniform cap off his head and placed it on her own. He looked up from his teasing and laughed against her skin at her playfulness.

She threaded her fingers through his hair, tugging as he switched his attention to her other breast, his hands firmly placed on either side of her waist.

She kicked off her shoes, letting her toes curl as waves of pleasurable anticipation coursed through her. She pulled him away from her chest, looking him square in the face as one of her hands boldly cupped his growing hardness through his trousers. His eyes widened at her bravery.

Her palm gently massaged the growing bulge as she pulled him closer, their noses almost touching.

“Enough foreplay,” she said, her teeth catching his bottom lip. “Fuck me already.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. He frantically pushed the hem of her skirt over her thighs, making the fabric pool around her waist. He pulled at the sheer pantyhose she wore, and he could see how wet they were from her need. She wasn’t wearing any underwear. She never did when on the same flight as him. The sight turned him on more than he thought imaginable.

And it came as no surprise to either of them that the thin fabric ripped when he tried to get them off. She laughed at his urgency and helped him pull them down enough to give him easy access.

He plunged his fingers inside her, wanting to rile her up to the point of insanity. She cried loudly as his digits invaded her folds, and she teased her bud of nerves as his fingers moved in and out of her.

Soon enough she was bucking into his hands, unable to keep her hips still. Between her moans and pleas for him to never stop, she managed to say that she wanted him inside her.

He undid the fly of his pants, freeing himself and rammed into her, drowning her moans of relief with his lips. Wouldn’t want the passengers to hear them.

Her hands clung to the fabric of his shirt as he rocked roughly against her, his breath harsh and ragged in her ear as he tried to hold on, to last as long as possible.

“Oh, God… _yes_ ,” she hissed, kissing his throat affectionately. He picked up the pace and her back arched with pleasure, her breasts pressing against his clothed chest.

“Harder,” she begged. “Faster!”

She was so close, he could tell, and he was about to topple over the edge too. He quickly pulled out of her and hoisted her off the counter before spinning her roughly around; her back now pressed flush against his front. He parted her legs with his knee as much as the pantyhose around her calves allowed, and let the head of his cock tease her before he gently eased himself in.

He reached around to roughly grab her jaw, forcing her to expose her neck. He nibbled on the delicate skin as he bucked into her, relishing in how she quickly matched his rhythm with her own movements.

She let one of her hands venture down to cup herself between her legs; her nimble fingers teasing herself in time with his thrusts.

“Do you like that, Miss French?” he asked, wanting to hear the words of approval from her lips.

“Fuck, yes-” she breathed, her words being cut off by a moan.

His other hand reached around to cup her breast, pinching the nipple, earning a cry from her rosy, parted lips.

Wanting to get even deeper, he suddenly pushed her forward, making her lean against the counter, spreading her legs even further apart.

 Without warning he plunged into her again.

She cried out at the change of angle, grinding against his front to meet his thrusts.

He had them bent over the counter in front of the mirror. Their gazes met in the reflective glass, and they smiled wickedly at each other. He loved watching her eyes close with pleasure, her cheeks blush with heat, her lips part as she moaned.

He tugged at the bun poking out from underneath his cap, releasing her hair, letting it cascade around her shoulders and down her back. Now he finally had something to pull.

He grabbed a fistful of hair at the nape of her neck and pulled, forcing her to crane her neck. He ran his tongue from where her shoulder met her neck to her jawline, his hips rocking faster and harder.

A string of obscene words and pleas cascaded from her mouth as he began pounding into her. She braced herself against the counter in front of them in an attempt to steady herself. He reached out to cover one of her hands with his, their fingers lacing together lovingly.

She was so close. He was so close. But he refused to be the one to careen off the edge first. He wanted to see her come undone.

“Come for me, Belle,” he whispered in her ear, his gaze never leaving the reflection of her face. He watched her bite her lip as his words intensified her pleasure, coaxing her to release.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he begged, his voice husky, broken by harsh breaths.

And he saw it on her face; the moment she came undone. And he heard her cry of release reverberate through the small space. And he felt her muscles tighten around him, practically forcing him to follow her lead.

He groaned as he emptied himself inside her, her hips grinding against him, riding out her orgasm.

Her arms shook as he placed a gentle kiss on her shoulder before pulling away from her. He tucked himself back into his trousers and fixed his shirt-collar.

Belle stood on slightly shaky legs, not bothering to pull her skirt down to cover her exposed arse.  

This was how it always ended. He would quickly depart, leaving her to clean up and straighten herself out.

Belle turned to face him, helping him tie his tie.

He trailed his thumb across her cheekbone, watching her as she concentrated. She smiled up at him and pulled him closer by his tie, pressing her lips to his. She ran her tongue across his bottom lip before pulling away, as a renewal of their agreement.

They both knew this would happen again. It always did. It was part of their routine; it was part of who they were.

He took his cap off her head and tipped it in parting. “Until next time, Miss French.”

“Until next time, Captain,” she said.

He then placed a soft, loving kiss on her cheek before unlocking the lavatory door and closing it behind him, as was also part of their routine. Their kiss goodbye was the one time he was gentle with her, the only tender thing they did together. He did it to remind her that she was a woman, and she deserved better than him.

But she still beckoned for him, and he still lusted after her. And no matter how many innocent kisses he placed upon her flushed cheek that would never change.

Because it was all part of their routine.   

 


End file.
